


dogmata

by seraf



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Bonding, Brothers, Clone Angst, Clone Wars, Deleted Scenes, Depression, Extended Scene, Gen, Good soldiers follow orders, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Krell is a bastard, Post-Episode: s04e07 Darkness on Umbara, Post-Episode: s04e10 Carnage of Krell, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rex Needs a Hug, Umbara, cruel irony, dogma needs a hug, dogma/rex if you squint i suppose, firing squad - Freeform, none of these tags mean anything anymore im just Typing, or. right at the end of that episode, talking it out, these boys just need a nap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 15:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13321056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraf/pseuds/seraf
Summary: a conversation that happens between rex and dogma on umbara, before dogma gets taken away. rex tries to be a good brother, but it starts to raise the question: is there room to be a good soldier and a good person both?set during ( after? right before the end of? ) carnage of krell.





	dogmata

‘ ––– it’s ironic, sure. bet you fives’d laugh about it, if you told him. ‘

 

dogma’s voice is bitter and sharp, like alcohol on skin rubbed-raw. and there’s something there of - rex has been around this block a few times. he knows false bravado and swan song when he hears it; he’s always been able to read the _fear_ latent underneath it. but the front being put up means that the other trooper doesn’t want it acknowledged, so, for what remains of dogma’s pride, he won’t mention it.

 

‘ why do it, then? if you knew what the punishment would be? ‘

 

( he’d asked one of the standing-by troopers what the sentence would be for dogma, back on kamino, and, to his surprise, it had actually been dogma to answer. though maybe it shouldn’t surprise him. he’s sure there are regs for everything. maybe dogma had been thinking about this all along. )

 

dogma fixed him with a fey sort of look - there was calm acceptance there, but also the look of someone who’d had the world pulled out from underneath him, and was just starting to realize how far the fall was. ( and the desperation of a child. dogma was nine years old, and rex was suddenly deeply aware of that. they might have similar faces and adult bodies, but sometimes he wondered whether parts of them weren’t still _children_. )

 

 _‘_ i had to. he betrayed us. ‘

 

the same things he had said back then, only about twelve standard hours ago. his voice had sounded frantic, then. it only sounded _tired,_ now. he hesitated, looking at rex and swallowing, and rex wished he knew what he was thinking. his voice was so quiet, rex almost missed the first stumbling words.

 

‘ besides. i’d be labelled as a traitor either way. for threatening to shoot you, or for _actually_ shooting _him_. ‘

 

he spread his hands in his lap, looking down.

 

‘ damned if i do, damned if i don’t. i know that the punishment for killing a jedi is execution - if i’m lucky, there’ll be something like a court-martial, but it’s all logistics. regardless of whether or not i was _justified_ in it, since i don’t have a long enough standing of reputation, they see it as clones taking justice and judgement into their own hands, and they worry we could turn on the jedi. ‘

 

he attempts a smile, but looks . . . like he’s going to be sick, for the most part.

 

‘ i made my own decision, sir. that’s what you said i should do, right? ‘

 

rex sometimes had to walk through the temporary field hospitals they set up, little more than blankets thrown over patches of rough ground and the harried medic running back and forth between those who would recover, and those who wouldn’t. ( the problem being that they sometimes looked the same. ) he’d seen soldiers on their deathbeds, or with limbs crushed and rendered useless by rubble, or who had caught some native disease and were running a fever so high that when the rain splashed on their skin, it steamed in the air.

 

they always tried to stand up, or reach for their gun or the makeshift splint that had miraculously carried them there, determined to fulfill their purpose and get back into the fight. _i’m fine, commander, it’s just a scratch - please, i can just walk this off, let me - if i go down i want to go down_ fighting -

 

dogma had the same pleading look on his face. like a kicked dog, desperate to please; the face of a soldier on their last limbs who just so desperately wants to be _useful._ to know that they helped, one last time, or that what they did might help their brothers carry on.

 

_he kind of reminds me of you._

 

rex didn’t want to think about that too hard right now. he didn’t want to wonder if his face had ever carried that same helplessness; the sudden realization that no matter what you did, the brothers around you might not make it through the night anyway.

 

he snaps out of his reverie, feeling a little guilty when he realizes dogma had been talking again.

 

‘ ––– to take the fall, they still need you, sir. ‘

 

‘ what? ‘

 

dogma opened and shut his mouth once, shoulders hunched in on themselves. his eyes shut, breathing in once, out once, as regular and as in-time as the rest of him used to be, before he speaks again, his words a shaking sort of calm.

 

‘ you’ve been at skywalker’s right hand for awhile, sir. there was a chance that even if you _had_ shot him, you could’ve gotten away without execution. but . . . you might not have. and . . . the men need you, here. if i’m the one who did it, it makes everything easier. cleaner. ‘

 

rex wanted to protest - he’s not sure if he wants to say _i could’ve done it_ or _you didn’t do anything wrong,_ or that he’ll still take the blame, but a part of him, the cold part hidden in the wrong side of his ribs, tells him that dogma is right. ( it’s the same part that always tells him to move on, when he sees a brother die on the field. there’s nothing he can do. it makes him wonder if _soldier_ and _human_ are antonyms. it doesn’t feel possible to act as one and the other at the same time. )

 

dogma curls one of his fingers tight to his palm, raising his hands in his binders as if he’s taking the shot all over again.

 

‘ i’m glad i _did_ do it, though. you don’t need to worry about me, captain rex. worry about those who are still alive - our _brothers._ i . . . i know they won’t remember me well. and i don’t deserve them to. ‘

 

dogma swallows, looking as though even that is hard for him, and rex sees his eyes shine, cuffed hands quickly coming up as soon as he notices it to rub his eyes, pushing back a tear with the butt of his palm.

 

‘ i _don’t_ deserve them to. but . . . rex, can you? i just wanted to do the right thing. i thought i _was_ doing the right thing. i . . . i thought that being a loyal person made me a good one. ‘

 

rex leans over and places a hand on dogma’s wrist, feeling the younger brother startle once. he’s . . . bone thin. ( makes sense, honestly. rex vaguely remembers the dietary notes in the regs, explaining the bare minimums they needed to survive. it looks as if dogma took that as instructions, orders like the rest, keeping his frame smaller and almost _taut,_ in comparison to the others. )

 

‘ vod’ika, look at me. ‘

 

technically speaking, when dogma’s eyes meet his, they’re just his _own_ eyes, and the same ones as every other trooper in the 501st - hell, in the GAR. but they’ve always been different. every one of them has. dogma’s are golden and frantic, scanning rex’s face for - ah, hell. rex realizes dogma might, even now, just be looking for an order, for some resemblance of _stability._

 

rex sighed, and squeezed dogma’s wrist once, steady and grounding.

 

‘ you did the right thing. and you did what you thought was right, before. krell was using your faith in the system, and it _isn’t your fault._ you did what i wasn’t strong enough to do, dogma, and i . . . i want to thank you for that. ‘

 

dogma’s eyes widen, and his shoulders snap square, face suddenly stern again despite the redness in his cheeks and eyes. if it weren’t for the fact that his hands were in binders, rex would put good credits on that he would’ve just snapped into a salute. it makes rex’s chest ache, a little bit. _we’re soldiers. it’s what we were bred for._ how many other dogmas were there, in the GAR? who had trusted _too much,_ who had put in _too much_ faith in the way things should be, and were now paying the price for it?

 

bile rose in his throat for a moment, and he swallowed it down.

 

_it’s not fair. we should be able to put our faith in the system we were made for. instead, there’s always this strange dance we’re pulled into without hearing the music - figuring out how to trust, when not to trust, who to trust, not to trust too much but still act in complete faith to the jedi and the republic._

 

‘ sir. no thanks are necessary, sir. ‘

 

rex remembers their first night on umbara, with dogma reporting in for the garrisons. _i’m fine, sir. / the general’s giving you an ORDER, dogma._ looking at dogma’s shoulders, his back inclined to curve in, and the dark circles pooled under his eyes, rex wondered if he _had_ slept then, or much at all in the time they’d been on this godforsaken planet. he couldn’t’ve gotten much sleep before waking up with tup.

 

‘ thanks _are_ necessary. don’t shortchange yourself, dogma. ‘

 

‘ i wish that wasn’t my name. ‘

 

that surprised rex, seemingly coming out of nowhere.

 

‘ what? ‘

 

‘ dogma. i wish i had a different name. or that i was able to earn something . . . _better._ every time someone addresses me, it feels like they’re spitting out the word, sir. ‘

 

 _dogma._ fives’ tone, the night of their aborted execution. rex had to admit that dogma had a point: it was a name that almost carried contempt with it. he reflected on it a bit morosely: dogma had been right, when he said there was a funny kind of irony to this whole situation. their brothers who had been here might hate him for listening to krell’s orders, but the rest of the GAR or those who just read about the incident in reports would hate him for killing him. jedi-killer was a heavy title, no matter the reason.

 

_damned if i do, damned if i don’t._

 

it made rex wonder if dogma’s impulsive action wasn’t so impulsive, after all.

 

‘ it suits you, dogma. besides. half our nicknames are insults, anyway. did you know mine came around because general skywalker wouldn’t let go of the fact that i _wrecked_ his jedi starfighter? he teased me about it for weeks. one of these days i’m going to dig up a tally of the ships _he’s_ crashed, just to stick it to him. ‘

 

‘ thirty-two. and a half. ‘

 

rex blinked at dogma.

 

‘ according to the mission records, anyway - official and non. the general’s droid usually keeps an _honest_ version of events, and i read over all of them at least three times when i was first assigned to the 501st. ‘

 

‘ how the _kriff_ does someone crash _half_ a ship? ‘

 

‘ if i remember the account of events right, sir, it had been a seperatist ship that got - well - separated, for lack of a better word. he said he technically only crashed half of it. and i suppose it was recorded like that. ‘

 

maybe this was the best that rex could still do for dogma. there wouldn’t be any saving him, not from an already-dug grave, but he could make the moments until the gunships came to pick them up, taking them in seperate directions, good ones. dogma deserved - better than this, but at the very least, he deserved some of his last moments with a brother where he _wasn’t_ making eye contact with the barrel of one of their blasters.

 

‘ well. general skywalker’s a good man, as long as i’ve known him, but his actions can be. . . unorthodox. ‘ he snorted. ‘ actually, that’s just being nice. there are times i want to duratape him to a table and have kix tattoo _di’kut_ to his forehead for the scrapes he gets us into. do you know some of the things we’ve done for his astromech _alone --- ? ‘_

 

dogma’s laugh is as rusty as a first-gen geonosian ship, and he looks surprised to even hear the sound coming from himself.

 

‘ i’ve only heard rumors before i joined the 501st, sir. ‘

 

‘ well, there was this one time when it came back from a mission with commander wolffe, and the other shiny droid would _not_ shut up about some kriffing . . . sacred sewer or something like that ––– ‘

 

the blue barrier of the holding cell door illuminated the both of their faces as they talked, conversation swaying easily into the night once it passed onto battles and missions far from here, with brothers that hadn’t died, and _jedi,_ in that sort of tone only experienced troopers use, full of exasperation and a strange kind of admiration all the same.

 

there was no mention of krell, or of firing squads of the future or past.

 

were it not for the binders still holding dogma’s hands together, it could’ve been any conversation in the mess hall, brother’s voices and laughter overlapping, and rex felt he’d _accomplished_ something when he was able to stand up a few hours later to leave dogma to his sleep with a faint smile on his face.

 

‘ get some rest, vod’ika. ‘

 

——————————

 

it was that witching hour, the time not-quite-morning but not-quite-night, when they came to take dogma back to the republic, and bring news of the umbaran defeat. rex was standing with fives, with kix and tup and jesse, all of them at attention and in their armor and looking so much more _worn_ for these past days. they watched the ships land, all of them silent and standing in a strewn-about row, as if they were shinies in the presence of a commanding officer for the first time: clumsy and frightened and doing their best to look like soldiers.

 

dogma was led out to one of the gunships by two brothers rex didn’t recognize; their armor was unmarked. impersonal, like the republic itself. for a moment, their eyes caught.

 

it _felt_ like both of them were trying to smile, to reassure . . . someone. maybe. but dogma just looked sad, nodding at rex before his eyes turned distant again, and rex could only manage to upturn his lips slightly in return, no true mirth in the expression.

 

he felt fives moving at his shoulder, and rex said a silent _goodbye_ to dogma. he would have to mark so many numbers, just for this campaign, and some of them - some of the brothers he’d _killed._ their blood was on _his_ hands. his throat closed up, and he forced himself to listen to fives. _good soldiers follow orders. i couldn’t’ve known._

 

‘ we did it. we took umbara. ‘

 

the words echoed over the brutal landscape, and rex’s chest ached. fives’ voice sounded as empty as he felt, even as he tried to smile. ( it looked more like baring his teeth than anything else. ) the words were almost too heavy for rex to get them off his chest, but . . . if not here, when was he _ever_ going to be able to say it?

 

‘ what’s the point of all this? i mean, why? ’

 

_so many dead. / we’re clones! we’re all clones! / i hope you can live with yourself, dogma._

 

maybe he was looking for a genuine answer. something to ease the chilling fear that _this is all there is. for us, this is all there will ever be._ maybe he just wanted to know that his brothers were at his side at the edge of this precipice. fives didn’t even hesitate before answering.

 

‘ i don’t know, sir. i don’t think anybody knows. but i do know that someday this war is gonna end. ‘

 

it should be a comforting thought. he should find comfort in that. shouldn’t he? and yet . . .

 

‘ then what? we’re soldiers. what happens to us then? ‘

 

fives shook his head, looking grimly off, and in front of them, the doors closed behind dogma with a chilling tone of finality. like an answer to the question that he had never wanted to consider. _we are men._ but were they, when the war was over? what _would_ happen to them then?

 

the umbaran sunrise came unnoticed, casting a dull and brutal light through shadowed, bloody undergrowth.

**Author's Note:**

> i'll have y'all know that i keep meaning to update my other fics and writing a star wars drabble was NOT actually in the plans it just. happened? i'd die for the clones i love them all. and dogma deserves BETTER.
> 
> but also like... i've always imagined that he was executed by firing squad post-umbara, and the main reason i STARTED this fic was just to share that irony with you all, and the fact he'd probably recognize it as such.


End file.
